


Unwanted Attention

by zesulin



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tumblr Prompt, cosette and eponine mentioned, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zesulin/pseuds/zesulin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a woman is a little too flirtacious and Grantaire saves the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwanted Attention

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Someone hitting on Enjolras and Enjolras not being interested, Les Amis defending him and Grantaire possibly pulling a fake-boyfriend. Also E/R makeouts.

Really, it should have been illegal to let Enjolras out of the house that evening. Even Courfeyrac had things to say about the sinfully tight jeans he wore, mentioning something about “killing R” and “attracting bears”, though Enjolras had absolutely no idea what the hell that was supposed to mean. In any case, Eponine, Cosette and Jehan had been over that afternoon, with the pretense that Enjolras needed a new wardrobe, considering his everyday attire consisted of mostly corduroy pants and turtle-necks. If any one of the amis had bad taste, it was certainly Enjolras (even though Jehan was known for wearing either clothing from Charlotte Russe or 19th century-style suits. Including button pants. As Courfeyrac had said numerous times before, “Jehan wears your great-great-great grand father’s clothes and still looks fantastic.”)

In any case, the young activist was wearing a pair of tight, maroon jeans made of velvet, black combat boots, and a loose shirt, topped off with a red blazer. Enjolras hadn’t felt any fruitier in his life. Not that that was a bad thing, really. Of course, since according to Jehan, he looked “smokin”, this meant he would be going out with the rest of the amis to the bar that evening, instead of spending his night studying for midterms (which were over a month away). 

And so he ended up in some bar or another with his friends, nursing a Sherly Temple as the rest of them chatted. At present time, Combeferre was in the loo (or so he said, but Eponine had left with him, so he assumed there was a bit more going on there. Not that he really cared.) so he was left with his thoughts until his friend returned. 

Or so he thought, anyways. A young woman slid into the seat beside him, smiling at him with twinkling brown eyes. 

“Hello.” she said, leaning against the bar. “So I lost a bet to a friend. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you for a drink, now.” Enjolras offered her a cold look.

“I don’t have any money.”

“A shame.” she replied after a moment, shrugging, before giving him a side glance. “What’s your name?”

“…Enjolras.”

Her rouged lips curled upwards. “You’re French?”

Enjolras was getting tired of this conversation very fast. He sighed heavily, then replied, “Yes. My mother was.”

“That’s interesting.”

The exchange continued to grow increasingly in-depth and uncomfortable before Courfeyrac and Grantaire noticed his distress.

Noting the girl’s hands on his knees, Grantaire slid over and wrapped an arm around Enjolras’s shoulders, tacking on his cheesiest grin. 

“Enjolras, dear, there you are.” he said swankily, turning adoring green eyes towards his Adonis. If it weren’t for the situation, Enjolras would have told him to go home and sober up. In any case, the girl didn’t seem to be buying it.

“Pardon…we were talking.”

“I saw,” R replied smoothly, playing with Enjolras’s hair. “But I was about to tell my boyfriend here that we’re thinking about heading home. It’s movie night, remember, love?” Enjolras was about to open his mouth before he caught Courfeyrac’s eye. The curly-haired man shook his head surreptitiously, making a cutting gesture across his neck. Enjolras picked up on his hint, and instead smiled as naturally as he could, nodding. 

“Your boyfriend?” she pressed, still obviously unconvinced.

Enjolras was growing tired of this beating around the bush. He decided to take matters into his own hands, then, and let Courf’s warnings be damned.

“Grantaire and I have been in a consistent, monogamous relationship for 3 years now, and we were engaged last week. I find the fact that you continue to press the matter when I’ve clearly stated that I am strictly interested in my fiance to be very offensive, rude, and frankly, irritating. And if you need any further proof—” he turned to Grantaire and cupped his chin, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together in a fashion that was smoother than he had expected. The cynic could just barely bite back a gasp of surprise and their lips moved together, soft and just as wonderful as he had always expected. God bless the years of acting from his middle school and high school days that hid his surprise. 

When Enjolras pulled away, his lips were swollen and deliciously red. He spoke fiercely then, turning back to the woman. “Now…” he swallowed. “We have a friend over there who happens to be single…so I suggest you go for them.” The girl only blinked in awe, stood, murmured an apology, and saw herself away.

Once she was out of ear-shot, Grantaire turned to Enjolras and said cockily, “So, does this mean we’re dating now?”

Enjolras flushed to his ears. “Something like that.”


End file.
